


And I had fun goofing around with Dwight today...

by twirls



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 14:26:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1782295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twirls/pseuds/twirls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh my god, Dwight's kind of my friend!</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I had fun goofing around with Dwight today...

**Author's Note:**

> Set some time after "The Negotiation." Originally written for nothing_hip.

Pam wakes up in the dark. She still hasn't bought a clock for her new bedroom, but it can't be later than four or five. After several minutes it becomes clear that she is not going to be able to fall back asleep. Well, fine.

Her charcoals are right by her bed but she's tired of finding dark smudges on everything she owns. Watercolors are more fun anyway. She fills a mug with tap water and sits down at the kitchen table. The mug came free with a refrigerator magnet - "Home Fire Safety." She thinks of Dwight and smiles despite herself. She's never properly thanked him for saving Jim's nose last month.

Her brush-strokes are strong and sure. She's done his face in caricature so many times she knows the angles of his chin without having to think. She puts him in front of his beet fields. She's not quite sure what a beet field should look like, but she adds a big red barn in the background. There's a window in the loft and she uses golden yellow to frame the face of a smiling woman peering out from behind a curtain.

While she waits for the paint to dry, Pam crosses to the cupboards and pulls down a cardboard box and a bottle of glue. With careful dabs, she glues the popsicle sticks together. It's a trick she learned in fourth grade, but real frames are surprisingly expensive. Dwight wasn't that heroic. 

By the time she's fit the last popsicle stick around the painting, it's almost time to go to work. She takes a shower and dresses quickly. She's worn the same blue cardigan twice already this week but it's not like anybody notices anymore. Not that she thinks people used to notice, but Roy did come upstairs sometimes. He might have cared. But Roy's gone and whatever. It's her favorite, it's clean, and she's going to wear it again. 

The parking lot is nearly full when she arrives. She parks next to Jim and doesn't think about anything. The painting is in the back and it's slid across the seat during the course of the drive. She has to walk around and open the passenger-side door to grab it. Through Jim's car window, she can see three Sudoku books and a DVD. Bridget Jones' Diary 2: The Edge of Reason is still in its plastic wrapping. When Meredith pulls in to a poorly-angled parking space, Pam jumps a little and turns back around. She tucks the watercolor between two mat boards under the seat. 

Stanley's waiting for her when she arrives. She takes his paperwork and promises to have everything ready before five. She could probably have it done by eight fifteen but she doesn't see any pressing need to tell him that.

Time ticks on. She waits for Jim to get up and walk towards Karen's desk before she approaches Dwight. It's not that she's avoiding him. It's just that, well, okay – she's avoiding him. 

“Hello, Pam,” says a voice. 

Well, here she is, standing at his desk. Cool.

“Oh, um. Hi Dwight.” She looks around nervously. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“What about?” He looks suspicious.

“Oh, you know.” There's a thread of blue hanging off her sleeve. She can wrap it around her finger twice. Three times if she uses her pinkie. She wonders when she started being nervous around Dwight of all people. “I just thought we could go somewhere. And, um.”

Dwight is staring at her. Not in a rude way, though. Just like he's really, genuinely interested in what she is saying. It's a little creepy.

“Would you like a pair of scissors?” He asks, reaching behind him to open a drawer.

“What?” 

“For your cardigan,” he explains. “Since it appears to be bothering you.”

She takes the scissors and snips off the offending string.

“Thanks, Dwight.” Her smile is genuine. “Hey, do you want to go for coffee?”

“Now?” His suspicious look has returned. “Pam, it is nine o'clock in the morning. Taking a break now would be an insult to Dunder Mifflin.”

There's not much you can say to something like that.

“How about during lunch then?”

“Much better.” He nods to himself and turns back to his computer. “I'll pick you up at reception at 12:00.” 

The day passes uneventfully. Michael spends two hours on the phone with Jan which frees up some time for his employees to actually earn their paychecks. Pam deals with Stanley's paperwork because, really, what else is she going to do with her time? 

At 10:15, Jim and Karen go out for coffee. Pam shares a dark look with Dwight. 

She wins four out of the next five solitaire games, forwards two faxes, and compliments Michael on his hideous new tie. Then it's noon and Dwight is standing by the coat rack, eying her free-cell game with interest. If he tells her where to put the queen she's not going to be held responsible for her own actions.

“Smart, Pam,” he says instead. “Strategic card games have been shown to reduce the risk of Alzheimer's in women. Also recommended are crossword puzzles. And fish.” 

Pam closes the window hurriedly. 

 

-

They take her car because it is the most fuel efficient. Dwight is a generous passenger. He gives her little driving tips and even reaches over to fix her hands at a stop light. 

“Ten and two,” he reminds her, like she didn't get her license 13 years ago. God, that's depressing. Whatever. She reminds herself that being a teenager sucked too but it fails to make her feel any better. At least she had a boyfriend.

 

-

 

Dwight refuses to spend more than the $1.07 for a cup of coffee. He pulls a sandwich out of a paper bag and scoffs at her over-priced blueberry scone. If she weren't so hungry she'd ask what kind of meat is in that sandwich but it's already hard enough to watch him chew with his mouth open and she's 100% sure she doesn't want to start a conversation. It's a really good scone.

Dwight finishes the sandwich quickly and starts gulping down the coffee.

“Hey, slow down,” she says. “I'm sure Dunder Mifflin can survive without us for a few more minutes.”

He looks so hurt she can't decide whether to laugh or cry. She changes the subject quickly.

“So, I made you something.”

“Like a sandwich?” He's sitting up straight now, leaning forward a little and staring deep into her eyes. Her chair makes a screeching sound as she scoots it back hurriedly.

“No,” she says hesitantly, “but if you're still hungry, I guess I could buy you another one.”

“Not necessary, Pam. I have a very efficient metabolism.” 

Okay. That's cool too. She starts scooping her crumbs into a napkin. Dwight takes the hint and stands up, snatching her coat off the back of her chair and holding it out for her. Pam smiles tightly and lets him help her put it on. It's warm enough that she doesn't really need it, but whatever. Dwight rushes forward to hold the door open for her and looks smug when she thanks him.

By the time they reach her car, Dwight is deep into an extremely educational monologue about Schrute family values and she doesn't bother bringing up the subject of the watercolor. She wonders how Aunt Mertle would feel about her bunions being described in such detail to a complete stranger. 

“What Aunt Mertle doesn't know can't hurt her,” she says out loud. Whoops.

“False,” corrects Dwight, but it reminds him of another story. 

 

-

 

As they pull into the parking lot, Dwight makes a clucking sound. Pam follows his gaze and inhales sharply, almost rear-ending Stanley's new car. Jim has Karen pressed against the side of his Saab, arms on either side of her body. Pam throws her own car into park and just sits there, waiting for Dwight's inevitably inappropriate comment. When it comes, it's not quite what she expects.

“Let's make him jealous,” he says. He looks very serious.

“What?”

“You know – you and me. We could do a little writhing ourselves. It would drive him insane.”

Okay, that look was a little too gleeful.

“Um, no thanks.”

Dwight looks disappointed. Pam is not quite sure what it says about her life right now that she's almost flattered. Much better not to think about it at all. They sit in a companionable silence, watching Jim and Karen feel each other up. Honestly, Pam has had worse lunch hours. When the couple finally breaks apart, Pam unbuckles her seat belt and reaches under the back seat to grab the watercolor. Suddenly embarrassed, she thrusts it into Dwight's hands and takes off toward the building. 

He doesn't catch up with her until she's already in the middle of transferring a call. When she hangs up, he strides purposefully over to her desk and envelopes her in a tight hug. She's still sitting, so it's a little bit awkward. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Jim's face. He doesn't exactly look jealous, but horrified is a nice start.


End file.
